Drifting
by perlaret
Summary: Getting kidnapped by pirates isn't bad enough. Oh no. To make matters worse, Sango is now the "property" - oh hell no - of the most lecherous idiot to ever sail the seven seas. Plus, something fishy is going on that's got nothing to do with seafood.
1. Boarded

**Author's Note:** Because everyone loves a goofy, historically hand-wavey pirate AU, right? This is a (heavily edited) re-post of what was published back in 2006 - 2007. The first eight chapters are co-written with Corisu Li. I'm currently planning on writing the rest on my own. Anyway, enjoy!

–

**Chapter One: Boarded**

–

Ocean travel did absolutely nothing for Sango.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. It did do something: it made her wretchedly seasick. It was so bad that, after a scant few hours on the open waters, she had nearly fallen overboard as she tried to walk from where she had been clinging to the portside railing back to her cabin. Since then, she had been confined to the cramped, dank room that would serve as her living quarters for the entirety of her journey. After a long residence on her father's island plantation in the Caribbean, she was returning to England. But, before she arrived there, Sango had to endure what could easily amount to a three-month-long journey.

Considering that for the past two days, she had been on the constant verge of regurgitating her stomach's scarce contents (she hadn't eaten since before she boarded), the prospect of those three months was taking on a daunting cast. At least from Sango's viewpoint. All that she wanted to do was dive headfirst into the waves and swim frantically for the closest strip of land.

Unfortunately, that wasn't an option, so Sango settled on the next best option: sleep.

So, sleep Sango did, or at least she tried to. Odd noises kept reaching her ears despite her half-conscious state, sounding like shouted commands, mixed in with the occasional oath. Sango groaned, wishing she had something to cover her head with besides the smelly, ratty blanket that covered her. Her head hurt so much...

The door to her cabin burst open with crash, and she made herself peel her eyes open. A man stood at the doorway, looking incredibly flustered, and after a moment Sango recognized him as the second mate of the ship. She wondered foggily what he seemed so frantic about.

"Miss! Please, you must get up immediately! We must move."

"Move?" she muttered. "Why?"

"Because, Miss. The ship has been—" That was the last word he managed to get out, because at that very moment, his head was cut cleanly from his shoulders by a shining cutlass. Another man, this one unfamiliar and grinning arrogantly and carrying the distinct stench of rotten fish, made his presence known by kicking the body aside.

"—boarded and taken over," the man finished. "I do hope you weren't headed anywhere of importance, little missy. We've got a new destination in mind."

Any other day in any other place, Sango would have stood up then and there and given him a piece of her mind, particularly for calling her a "little missy". However, she was too out of sorts to care, much less to even realize that the man was a pirate and that this was more than a very odd dream. Instead, she merely passed back into dizzy unconsciousness, completely oblivious to the predicament she was now in.

It was bound to be a long journey indeed.

–

When Sango next awoke, the first thing that she realized was that she was no longer in the hard, uncomfortable bed that she had grown accustomed to suffering in. No, the surface that she was lying on was even harder and more unforgiving, if that were possible, and it took her a moment to get her bearings.

The churning in her stomach told her that she was still at sea. Fortunately, she felt nowhere near as nauseated as she had before. The area in which she was confined was so dark that she could hardly see. The only light that filtered into the room came from several cracks in the ceiling – it looked like it might be a trapdoor.

Moving cautiously so that she wouldn't agitate her already rebellious stomach, Sango sat up and blinked, trying to force her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Peering into the shadows, she realized just how small the compartment was. If she were to stretch out her arms full-length, she would easily be able to touch both walls. Uneasiness that had nothing to do with the water or the rocking of the boat began to well up within her. Whatever was going on, it wasn't good.

Sango shifted to her knees, steadying herself with a hand to the wall. It was grimy beneath her palm. Sango frowned but chose to ignore it. She needed to focus on figuring out where she was and, if possible, finding a way out. That in mind, she began to shuffle forward, running her fingers along the wall in search of a door, or maybe a ladder.

Sango had only moved forward a couple of feet when she ran into a strange lump in the middle of the floor. Unable to discern what it was by sight alone, Sango reached down and felt – was that human flesh?

Startled, Sango fell backwards, landing hard on her tailbone. Whatever she had been expecting, it hadn't been a body.

"What's going on?" Sango muttered, closing her eyes and forcing herself to breathe even, her heart still pounding loudly in her ears. She needed to calm down and stop jumping to conclusions. Whatever had happened, panicking would not help her. She needed to keep her head on straight and determine whether or not the person she had touched was alive or dead, and then whether or not they were an ally.

She had just settled on this course of action and was steeling her nerves when the body suddenly shifted. The person moaned, then sat up abruptly and muttered something unintelligible. Though she couldn't make out the words, the cadence of the voice reached Sango – it sounded like a woman.

"What did you say?" Sango asked after a moment's hesitation, squinting and trying to make out the other woman's face. There was a brief hush, before a trembling, yet comprehensible, whisper broke through the silence.

"You're awake?"

"Yes," Sango replied, her eyes finally adjusting enough so that she thought she could make out the huddled form of the other girl leaning against the far wall. "What's going on?"

There was a choked sound which she guessed to be a mix between a gasp and a sob before the other young woman managed to gain control of herself. "The... The ship was taken over... P-Pirates... The crew tried to fight back, but they killed... everyone..." Her composure was lost then, and she broke down into tears, leaving Sango to awkwardly crawl towards her and try offer comfort while processing what little had been revealed.

Pirates? The infamous scoundrels of the sea? The ones who were hanged by water's side as a warning to their fellow outlaws? The men who ship merchants dreaded and the Navy hated? They had boarded and captured The Charity? The idea was not very consoling. In fact, it was downright terrifying. Vaguely, she thought she remembered something of the sort happening, but it felt like a dream in her memory. However, Sango reasoned, there was no point in going to pieces, unless she wanted to annoy some swashbuckling halfwit and find herself with an extra hole in her head, courtesy of a pirate's gun. Of course, there was always the ever-present alternative – walking the plank like a damsel in distress out of a sailor's tale.

"Hey..." Sango began, having noted that her companion had quieted some. "What's your name?"

"Ayumi," she sniffled. "Yours?"

"Sango. Ayumi, what happened that's gotten you so worked up?" Well, besides the obvious trauma of criminals invading the ship and laying gun and cutlass to everyone on board. "I mean, did those men do something to you?"

The other girl inhaled shakily. "They... My husband. They—" Ayumi stopped abruptly, before letting out a whimper and cowering back. Confused, Sango opened her mouth to inquire as to what had caused these strange actions, before she heard the heavy footsteps overhead. They stopped, and with a creak, the trapdoor above swung opened to allow lantern light to flood the tight space. Sango found herself needing to shield her eyes from the glare.

"Ah, what's this? Both of the beauties have woken up. Come ladies! Don't jus' sit there... Get up 'ere!" There was a clatter, and Sango lowered her arm to see that a rope ladder had been dropped from the hole in the ceiling. Despite her earlier search for such a ladder, she found she would have much preferred to remain where she was instead of ascending. Regardless, Sango bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from retorting and reached for the ladder. She honestly doubted that any pirate would have any qualms about coming down and retrieving her if she chose to be stubborn. Frankly, she wasn't prepared to let one of the filthy brutes touch her.

As she neared the top rung, however, a hand locked itself around her forearm and pulled her up the last few feet, depositing her on the ground. Lips going thin, Sango glared up at the three shoddy men as they took their time in looking her over. It was like they were appraising her like she was something on sale at a market, and it brought bile to her throat.

_'What I wouldn't give to claw their eyes out...'_ Sango thought venomously. Even so, she was thankful when their attentions turned to 'helping' Ayumi out of the trapdoor. It didn't take much time though, and soon both girls were being hustled up a short stairway. Sango set her mind on trying to memorize the path they took, just in case an opportunity arose in which she could break away and try to escape. The matter at hand had driven all thoughts of her earlier seasickness from her mind and from her body, though she still felt a little shakey, and Sango felt significantly better for the improvement.

Suddenly, Sango was grabbed by her shoulders from behind and was spun to face the one pirate who had to be the worst of the three who were chaperoning the two captive women. His breath was rotten and his teeth were yellow lumps in diseased and blackened gums. His weathered, pocked, and ugly face was covered and framed with coarse, matted hair, and his nose looked as though it had been broken more than once. Needless to say, when he leaned in close to leer at Sango, giving her a good whiff of that breath, she was sorely tempted to break it for him again.

"Now, now missy..." he grounded out, his voice as pleasant as a mud puddle of starved leeches, "don't be a-walkin' there, lookin' so entranced. You looked about ready to be a-wanderin' off..."

Refraining from turning and gagging in the manner she truly wanted to, Sango plastered a simpering, fake smile onto her face. "Wander off?" she repeated. "Why would I do a silly thing like that when I'm in the company of such fine gentlemen?" The pirate didn't seem to detect the blatant sarcasm in her tone, and his companions made no comment if they managed to catch it. In fact, the gruesome man seemed rather taken with the idea of being considered a gentleman. Too taken.

"In that case, a pretty lady like yourself wouldn' mind giving this seafarin' gent a kiss, now would she?" He moved in closer, and Sango felt as though she needed to vomit. There was no way she was going to let her lips so much as touch the filthy man!

"Oh! I couldn't do a thing like that!" she said, raising her hand to her face as though she were embarrassed, although it really was a subtle attempt to block the lout's smell from her senses. "You see, I'm, ah... betrothed. To kiss anyone but my intended would be completely dishonorable!"

This caused one of the other men, a more wiry man with a horse-like face and a closely trimmed moustache and goatee, to fall into a fit of laughter, making the lantern he held swing wildly. The light tilted back and forth, leading the shadows of the ship in a dance around the corridor. Sango turned her head to look at the man, and could see Ayumi standing like a wraith a few steps behind him, eyes wide in the unsteady gloom. The cackling rogue finally calmed himself enough to speak. "Dishonorable? Ha! Where you two will be goin', honor ain't gonna mean anything."

Sango had every intention to ask just what was meant by that, but that was when the third 'chaperone', a tall black man of a frightening demeanor, decided to make his opinion known. "Enough. The captain said to be silent about it, and the watch ends soon. Let's make this quick and shut these wretches back where they belong." There was a murmur of reluctant agreement from the other two men, and all conversation ceased save for the orders Sango and Ayumi were given.

They were first allowed a brief visit to the ship's head – the on board privy – before being herded into the galley. Each was given a chunk of hardtack and a lukewarm cup of tea and told to consume it all, which they reluctantly did. A short while later, the two women were hurried back the way they had come and all but shoved down the ladder back into the stinking hole that was their prison.

A sudden heaviness of her eyelids soon made it clear to Sango that the food had been drugged; she had had no intention of falling asleep in such a situation. Ayumi slumped to the ground, her breathing slow and measured. Soon after, Sango slid into unconsciousness as well, unable to ward off the unwanted, unnatural weariness.


	2. Sold

**Author's Note:** Hahaha, okay, my sense of humor has changed SO MUCH since I was a teenager, but whatever. I tried to edit out the more cringe-worthy parts, so hopefully it works.

–

**Chapter Two: Sold**

–

"Wake up, little missy," a gruff voice said, and Sango felt a hand push her shoulder. Her eyes still closed, she tried to organize her hazy thoughts. Slowly, the facts came back to her: she was stuck at sea with a gang of filthy pirates who, as they put it, 'had plans for her'. Oh, whoopee.

Opening her eyes, Sango immediately noticed that she was obviously incorrect; her environment looked more like a cabin than a ship's brig.

"Ah, yer awake," the pirate remarked, grinning and showing his rotten teeth. "Good. Ya know, I can't see what the cap'n told us. I think yer pretty enough without the stuff."

Sango wrinkled her nose at the man and sat up. "Where have you taken me?" she demanded, glaring at him fiercely.

"Tortuga," the pirate answered, pulling a length of rope from where it was tethered at his side. "Now stop askin' questions. It ain't fittin' for a wench." He grabbed one of Sango's arms at the wrist and twisted it, jerking it behind her back. Before she could react, another pirate who had been lurking in a corner grabbed the other arm and pinned it as well.

"Now, we can't have you tryin' to hurt our gals, can we?" he leered as the first pirate tied Sango's hands together, tugging it so tight that the rope bit into her skin. She grimaced, but refused to make a sound.

The second pirate, a pointy-nosed one with an eye-patch, then knelt to bind Sango's feet as well. Almost as a reflex, she jerked both feet up and slammed them into his face. Unbalanced, she tottered and fell off of the low cot onto the floor. Despite the new ache on her hip, Sango allowed herself a moment of satisfied triumph when Eye-Patch shouted in pain and clapped his hand to his nose. "Trollop!" he spat, snatching his knife from his waist.

He leaned over Sango, pressing the grimy blade to her throat. "You'll pay for that, you will," he said malevolently.

The first pirate called, "Hold it, Dervin! The cap'n won't be too pleased if you kill 'er." He didn't make a move as if to stop him, however; he merely stood and watched, looking like a child that was waiting for someone to do something wrong to have something to go tattle about.

"I don't care," Dervin snarled, pressing the blade more firmly against Sango's neck. Despite her scowl, she was still, not daring to move for fear that the knife would break her skin. There was a moment of tense silence as they all waited for someone to make a move, then the door to the cabin opened with a bang.

A huge man stood framed in the doorway, his hand on the hilt of his sword. He was excessively hairy; his long mane was arranged into a very thick braid and his face and arms were covered in long bristles. He wore a large hat, cocked slightly to the side and adorned with a single, shaggy-looking feather. "Leave her be, ya scoundrel," he growled, stepping into the cabin, his large, heavy-looking boots making his footfalls loud and slightly intimidating. Dervin complied immediately, stuffing his knife back into his belt and scowling bitterly as a thin trickle of blood flowed from his right nostril. "Get the lady up, Berkiss."

The pirate who had been watching Sango be menaced nodded and grabbed her by the arm with one callused hand, dragging her to her feet and pushing her into a seated position on the cot. "Ain't she a pearl, cap'n?" he said, almost nervously.

The pirate captain didn't even glance at Sango. "Enough of a beaut, I'm sure," he replied, then moved his bulk aside, revealing two old women standing in the doorway, each clutching a rawhide bag and simpering.

"Ya know what ta do, ladies," the captain said simply. "Berk, Derv, get your arses out of there before I take a sword to both of your hides!" The two lesser pirates filed out of the room quickly, and the captain spared a glance at Sango. "Good day, lady," he said mockingly, tipping his hat. "Don't go lashin' out at me girls, now."

He withdrew from the cabin, allowed the women to enter, then slammed the door forcefully behind him.

"Such a pretty thing," one woman said, putting the bag on the cot beside Sango. She was rail-thin like a waif, her nails long and unkempt. Her stringy gray hair was in no discernible style, strewing itself around her scalp at will. She used one of her skinny hands to grab Sango's chin.

"Let go of me!" she snapped, shaking her head to try and free the woman's hand. The waif responded by tightening her grasp, surprisingly strong for seeming so frail.

"Now, now, calm down. Dear sister, I think she thinks lowly of us," she said, mockingly. "Well, dearie, yer on the same level as us now, so get used to it!"

The other woman was a little heavier than her sister, but not by much. Her sharp cheekbones were very prominent and made her look like a bird. Leaning down, she used her wrinkled hand to brush the bangs from Sango's face. "Us two was sent to pretty you up some," she declared. "So much we could do on a pretty young thing like you..." She reached for her bag and pulled out a cheap-looking silver tin.

"Oh, yes, sister, that's perfect!" the thin one exclaimed joyously, maintaining her tight grip on Sango's chin.

Sango had been looking from one woman to the other in confusion for a few seconds, but now, a look of comprehension crossed her face. 'They were sent to... beautify me?' Oh, the irony.

As the second sister pried the top from the tin, dipped her fingers in, and smeared a slimy gunk that smelled of seaweed on her face, Sango had a sudden realization.

This was not going to end well.

–

It seemed like ages of pure torture before the 'beautification' was complete, if you could call it that. Looking into the cracked mirror that she had been momentarily shoved in front of, Sango could never think of a time when she looked more like what she imagined a brothel woman looked like. Seeing the horrors that had been inflicted onto her face in a filthy mirror provided by the sisters, she was suddenly very satisfied that she had managed to bite the waif-like wretch when she had first tried to spread a disgustingly red paint across her lips. That woman had disappeared in a huff soon afterwards, leaving her sister to complete their job.

It was then that the frail woman returned, a slithery sort of man trailing after her, though he bypassed her the moment he saw Sango. He paced around her, beady eyes examining her every feature critically. Sango felt annoyance and anger begin to boil hard within her; she was getting sick of being eyed like something to be purchased.

"Eh... Is this the girl then?" he asked the sisters nasally. "Not bad... A fair catch to be had, in fact, such that I am impressed. I see now why your captain was so insistent that my original offer was shorting him..." He let out a short whistle, and two rather burly men entered. "Take her in and set her to be up next. Tell Ned to start at five."

One of the men, a Spaniard, looked surprised. "Only five?"

"It'll go up fast."

The Spaniard gave a grunt of agreement before both he and the other lackey grabbed a very confused Sango by the arms and pulled her away.

–

Within an hour, it all added up into a good lot of sense.

Sango was to be auctioned off to whichever drooling, desperate old pirate fool was willing to fork over the most money for her. And the best part? There weren't exactly laws that they'd be required to conform to, save for any Articles that they were sworn to as a member of a crew. But, those rules varied from ship to ship, and there were some men there that were not currently bound by contract.

It was those men who Sango feared the most, though she'd be hard pressed to admit it.

So, instead of letting her nerves and worry be known, she kept up a cool front and a dark glare as she was pushed out onto the stage. All eyes turned to her, both of the crowd and the auctioneer. It was the latter that made quick to speak first.

"Avast, lads! Look sharp! Here be a lass who may easily be worth your pesos and pence." He took her by the arm, her wrists still bound, pulling her closer to the edge of the stage, and therefore, closer to the leering crowd. Needless to say, Sango was less than pleased, and showed her displeasure by turning her face and spitting on the auctioneer's face.

He didn't seem to mind at all, but merely tugged out a stained handkerchief and wiped the spittle from his cheek as if this sort of thing happened all the time.

"Lookie there! She's a feisty one! What'ya say boys? Let's start her off at six pounds!"

Six pounds? What the- Sango most assuredly was worth more than a measly six pounds!

"Seven!"

"Eight pounds!"

"Twelve!"

"Twenty!"

...Okay. That was more like it. Sort of.

Right. Back to being unhappy with the entire situation.

"Let go of me!" she insisted, trying to yank away from the auctioneer. He paid her no attention, focusing on the bids that were gradually slowing down. Finally, no one else spoke, though there were murmurs of disappointment.

"Ah! Is that all then? Two and thirty pounds it is then! Going once, twice, and... Well, I say!"

While he had been closing the auction, a brown object had flown over the crowd towards the stage. It landed near Sango's feet, causing her to jump back reflexively as its contents spilled out. The object was a purse, overflowing with foreign coins and even a few jewels.

"That there should equate to about double the price," came the calm comment that made all eyes turn to the speaker. He grinned. "I believe this is where the word, 'sold', finds its way in?"

The auctioneer quickly obliged, pushing Sango off to the side to be led away before she could properly see her... purchaser.

Oh well. She could be patient. But really, Sango couldn't wait to meet him.

She really wanted to give him a broken nose.

–

Sango was led around the back of the auction arena by the same men who had brought her there to a small, rickety building painted a vivid, peeling red. After being pushed through the door, she didn't find the inside to be much better; particularly when she was shoved into a splintery, wobbly chair. In fact, the whole ordeal just made her want to hurt something as soon as the binds were loosened from her wrists.

A quick survey of the room for escape route proved unhelpful when the two men who had escorted her here settled against the walls, clearly intending to guard her until her new captor arrived.

It didn't take him long. The door opened, and a young man strolled on in.

He was the perfect image of almost any gentlemen Sango had ever encountered in England. He was spectacularly dressed, with a navy blue jacket with glinting gold buttons, matching breeches, clean stockings and shined shoes. Although he wore a jauntily angled hat as well, no powered wig was worn beneath.

"Ah, so this is the lady?" the man said cheerily, removing his hat to reveal a mess of black hair, pulled back at the neck. His interested lavender-gray eyes swept over Sango, as though he were sizing her up. He nodded to the other two men, gesturing that they could leave. "Thank you, gents. I can handle her from here."

They left without so much as a word.

Sango was now alone...with a man of unquestionably questionable motives.

Great.

"Now then, don't be shy!" the pirate said cheerfully. "Do stand up."

Sango gave him a long, baleful stare. He raised an eyebrow, before shrugging ruefully.

"All right... If you want to stay tied up, that's fine."

He had hit the target on the mark. Sango only hesitated a second more before she struggled to her feet, her balance disgustingly off. If her wrists were untied, she'd have a much easier time getting away. The pirate smiled at her, pulling a small knife from the inside of his jacket and sauntering closer. He lowered the blade to the rope, before he paused to look her in the eye.

"You're tense... Thinking about hitting me?"

"What if I am?" Sango snapped. He looked bemused.

"That's fine. Just remember," he said cheerfully, "if you knock me out and run away, you're running out into a city full of outlaws that are probably a lot less friendly than me. So, if you think it's the best course of action, by all means, swing away."

And without further ado, he cut the ropes away.

Much to her frustration, Sango found that the strange man was right. Even if she did manage to get away from him, where would she go? She quickly determined she'd have to bide her time, until some opportunity arose.

"So you're not going to hit me? That's good. I tend to dislike bruises. Now, m'dear, do tell me your name," the pirate said, taking her gently by the elbow and leading her out of the old building. Sango wasn't sure what he was up to, but she most definitely wasn't going to tell him her name.

"Isn't that a bit presumptuous to ask me that when you haven't even introduced yourself?" she said curtly, noting with distaste that she was still in her nightdress. Between that and the ugly mask that had been painted onto her face, she knew she had to look downright ridiculous. It didn't help her mood at all. She tugged her elbow from his grasp, frowning, and began to rub gingerly at the red welts on her wrists.

"My apologies then. They call me Miroku. Now, please, your name?"

Sango refused to look at him. "No surname then?"

"Not until you tell me your first one." The pirate- Miroku- didn't seem at all surprised at her lofty evasiveness. In fact, it sounded as though it amused him.

"Very well. My name is..." Sango paused for half a second, before a false name came to her. "Emma. I'm Emma," she repeated, as though reassuring herself.

That's when she heard Ayumi's voice call out a single word.

"Sango!"


	3. Inn

**Chapter Three: Inn**

–

Silence fell and Sango stared in disbelief at Ayumi as the young woman caught up with them. Miroku, in turn, looked at Sango, a question in his eyes.

"Didn't you just say your name was Emma?" he said at last, raising one dark eyebrow and smirking. Sango inwardly groaned.

Maintaining her disgusted attitude towards him, she coldly replied, "Why don't you make use of whichever one you're most comfortable with?"

"Sango," Ayumi began again, having been listening in, "Why'd you lie to this nice-looking man?" She gave Miroku a coquettish smile, then whispered to Sango. "He seems like a fine catch to me, even if he is a pirate."

Sango tried to take a deep breath and only succeeded in making a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a groan. Last time she'd seen this girl, she'd been in a half hysterical state over the death of her husband, and now she was acting like a flirty gossip. Had she gotten knocked upside the head since the last time they'd met? "Apparently, I seem to be his 'fine catch'. Oh, and Ayumi? You're not helping."

Sango then paused as she took in the other woman's appearance. She was slightly out of breath, as if she'd been running, and the bottom hem of her petticoat was flecked with dust from the road. (Her normal dress seemed to have gone missing entirely.) Her hands were covered with much of the same, practically caked with dirt.

"What have you been doing?" Sango asked after the inspection, frowning.

Miroku, obviously feeling left out, volunteered, "I have a few ideas, all of which will get me slapped."

"Keep out of this," Sango snapped, causing mild indignation to flow over the man's features.

By now, they were all standing at the side of the road that wound through the entire town, connecting the brothels, bars, and run-down inns together and giving drunkards a place to stagger aimlessly.

"Well, I suppose that's why the price on you was set so low at the start," Miroku responded, running a hand down his face in mock sadness. "That temper of yours is absolutely deplorable! Such a shame that a lovely maiden like yourself is so corrupted with such an attribute. I weep for the loss."

Sango froze for a moment, then turned around to face him, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Excuse me?"

"Well, is it not obvious? What man in his right mind would want a companion who is as unpleasant as a hurricane? Honestly. I think I've met an naval officer or two politer than you, milady Sango."

Everybody knew that the Navy had no sympathy for pirates. They'd sooner hang one than pass one on the street.

Sango seethed at the insult. However, before she could give proper return, Ayumi gave a shriek, ducking behind Sango. Distracted from her _conversation_ with Miroku, Sango peered over her shoulder at the curly haired girl. "Ayumi?"

"Those men!" she whispered, peeking over Sango's other shoulder and gesturing towards two scowling men headed the group's way.

"How'd you let the wench get away from yeh?" one grumbled, dragging his feet along and staring around at the surroundings. "She was a right frail one!"

The other pirate retorted, "How would you've handled it if'n she kicked you in the quarter-decks?"

Ayumi tittered slightly from behind Sango as the latter noticed that the second pirate was limping slightly. Miroku winced. "I revoke my earlier statement, Sango. Miss Ayumi makes you seem the lesser of two evils." A glare silenced him.

"Ah! There be the scurvy wretch! Get o'er here..." The second pirate, having caught a chance sight of Ayumi as she peeked over Sango's shoulder again, strode towards the two women. He made to reach around Sango and grab the other girl, but Sango knocked his arm out of the way, blocking Ayumi from sight. "What the bloody hell are ye doin', wench?" he hissed. "You be wasting me time."

Sango crossed her arms, practically looking down her nose at the pirate, never mind he was more than a head taller than she was. "You won't be laying a hand upon her," she said, and a look of shock crossed the outlaw's face before he burst into guffaws.

"Begad! This lass be thinkin' she's somethin'. Outta the way, bird," the limping pirate said, and his heavier companion shoved her aside just as Ayumi bolted. The two tars made chase as Sango stumbled to the side, almost falling until warm hands caught and steadied her.

"Careful."

It was Miroku.

"Let go of me," Sango practically snarled, trying to break away so that she could follow Ayumi and her two pursuers. His hands tightened on her shoulders, pulling her back against him.

"No," he murmured close to her ear, and Sango froze. "You can't be rash. You wouldn't be able to do much against them. Didn't you see, Sango? They were armed." She turned sharply to glare up at him.

"Then help me, you damned corsair!" she hissed. Miroku considered her, his face as blank as one who was playing a card game, then looked up the way the others had disappeared, before shaking his head with a sigh.

"There's no way."

"But-" Sango stopped herself, shaking from fury. Ayumi had been a link to the normal. She had been on the same ship as Sango, going to much the same place, even if they didn't know each other well. In fact, they hadn't even met, save for a brief introduction at the beginning of their journey, until their ship had been boarded. But it hadn't mattered...and, apparently, it still didn't matter. "Fine," she said at last, her fists clenching as she stared down at the dirt covered ground. "Just take me to wherever you were taking me."

He touched her elbow lightly, and Sango let herself be led on by the pirate Miroku.

––

Miroku walked steadily on, having let go of Sango after she had trodden on his foot rather heavily, who apologized for the little 'accident' in such a way that it was clear it hadn't been an accident at all. Frankly, he supposed that after letting those two scalawags run off with her friend, it was the least that he could do to allow her to walk under her own power.

They traveled in silence for a quarter of an hour; Sango was trying to take in everything at once, as if she were planning an escape route, but to no avail. There were many twists and turns, and often, Miroku led her down narrow alleys, reducing her to lifting her skirt and stepping over broken bottles and other, less alluring things. Her sense of direction was badly skewed by the time he stopped in front of an inn.

A sign was hung from a post that jutted out toward the road by large, clunking chains. It was heavily inked in a rusty red color that looked like blood, and it sinisterly proclaimed that the inn was named, _The Eye of the Krakken._ Twisting between the words was a sea monster, the same sanguine color as the letters. It tapered off near the top of the sign, its mouth open in a fanged leer.

The building itself looked rather run-down, the wood splitting in places. The second step up to the door was simply missing. Her eyes dubious, Sango turned to Miroku slowly.

"Why, exactly, have you brought me to an inn, Pirate?" Sango asked, her eyes fixing over his shoulder onto one of the grimy windows, where a large, smeared handprint was clearly visible in the dirt.

"Well," Miroku said mildly, "you'll need a place to wash all of that filth from your face, won't you?"

"Let me rephrase the question. Why have you brought me to an inn of such obviously low caliber?" She wrinkled her nose slightly at a box of refuse beside the steps.

Miroku smiled at her. "You can't judge a captain's log by the quality of its leather," he quipped, hopping up to the third step and extending his hand down to her, intending to help her over the gap.

After only a moment's hesitation, she took his hand, and he drew her up onto the step, placing a hand on the small of her back to help her steady herself. Sango glared at him sourly, and he quickly removed the hand. "Merely being a gentleman."

"I'm sure," she muttered, scaling the remaining steps and pausing at the top. For all of her bravado, she did not want to be the first to enter the inn. As such, she waited until Miroku pushed it open, then followed tentatively at his heels.

The atmosphere inside was like a slap in the face. Despite its outer appearances, the Eye was actually in very good shape when one was judging by its interior. If one could ignore the waves of pipe smoke and the pervasive scent of hard ale, it was actually a fairly homely place. Well, relatively speaking. A small group of men around a fire in the corner glanced up as the two entered, but made no move to approach. With a swift movement, Miroku swept his hat from his head and approached the counter where a wizened man sat, polishing his spectacles.

When the innkeeper noticed Miroku standing in front of him, he blinked blearily and perched the glasses on his nose once more. There was still a rather large smudge on the left lens, but it obviously didn't bother the man; he took a quill from where it had been stowed behind his ear. "Name?" he queried, dipping the utensil into an inkwell off to his right and poising it over the thick book sitting in front of him.

"Miroku Midara," the pirate offered, and the man scratched the name into the book, pausing when he noticed Sango.

"She'll be stayin' with you, then?"

When Miroku nodded, Sango sprang into defense mode. "What?" she hissed, but he calmly ignored her as the innkeeper dug around behind his desk.

"Now where are those blasted- ah, here we are! He came up with a ring of thin keys, then plucked one off and handed it to Miroku. "There you are. Room twelve. Right down that hallway." He jerked a thumb behind him, jotted a '12' down beside Miroku's name, then removed his spectacles once more, rubbing irritably at them. He seemed to have forgotten that the quill was still in his hand, however - his rubbing was causing specks of ink to splatter the lenses.

"You heard the man," Miroku said jovially. "This way."

Sango waited until they were at least halfway down the hallway until she caught him by the wrist, making him turn around to face her anger. "What do you think you're doing, Pirate? I am not going to share a room with you. You're out of your mind! If you think you're going to lay a finger on me-"

She stopped when his placed a finger against her lips, silencing her. Miroku's eyes were sparkling with amusement in the poorly lit hall, and a grin was on his mouth. She flushed, yanking away.

"Calm down, Sango. Rest assured, I'm a pirate, but I'm not a pig." He lowered his hand, and strolled over to the door that had a crude numeral twelve etched into the aged wood, inserting the key into the lock. "Besides," he said as Sango slowly caught up, "I couldn't, even if I wanted to. Especially if I value my life. The articles of my ship make it a rule that any man under the contract is not to meddle with a prudent woman without her consent, on punishment of death." Opening the door, he gave her a wink. "So, you're safe with me. Ladies first."

"Oh..." A little unsure now, but not quite convinced, she stepped past him into the room, looking around hesitantly. Sango started slightly when the door clicked shut, and Miroku brushed past her with another smile.

"Let's see... The wash basin is over here. The water looks as though it's been changed recently- good! I'd be disappointed otherwise. And here's a clean cloth for you." He tossed it Sango's way. She caught it and watched him moving around the room, checking it over. "Well then. All seems to be in good order."

Sango clutched the cloth for a moment, then crossed to the washbasin and dipped the rag into it. She lifted it to her face, sponged at her cheek, and grimaced as it came away blue with the old women's atrocious face paint. Apparently, the pale paste didn't mix well with water, and Sango was thankful that it hadn't been raining. Having made sure that the stuff wasn't stuck permanently on her face, she glared at Miroku.

"Why are you still here?"

"Whatever do you mean?" He answered her question with another, smiling as he leaned against an oaken bedpost. After a moment, he elaborated, "I am paying for this room. Also... Maybe I am ensuring that no one walks in on you!"

"You can do that from outside the door, I believe."

"But I won't be able to see the true beauty of your face through a slab of wood, and I do _so_ want to see what I paid for."

Sango narrowed her eyes. "Don't try to feed me that sort of nonsense. Flattery goes nowhere with me, you stupid pirate. You'll have to try another tactic."

Miroku was silent for a moment, and she saw the way his eyes swept over her, taking in her every feature in a way that made her unsure as to whether or not she should feel inclined to beat him over the head with the nightstand. Finally, he spoke again, his voice low. "Ah, but what would the purpose of such tactics be? Could it be possible that, with the right skills, a mere pirate could win the heart of a pretty girl like you, Sango?"

Sango turned away, beginning to scrub at her scowling face again. "No," was her dismissive reply.

"Has one ever tried?"

Her breath caught when she heard Miroku say that. He wouldn't dare! Would he? Sango fumed.

"Of course not. But then, I don't consort with criminals, so I assure you that none ever had the chance to woo me. Even if they had, though, I assure you that no piratical _charm_ could sway my heart."

"Indeed," he laughed. "However, Sango, is it not true that you now find yourself sharing a room with a criminal at this very moment?"

"Not by choice."

"Hmm..." It was then that he apparently decided to change the subject. Thank heavens. "You're still in a nightshift, aren't you? That won't do at all. I have a lady friend who could lend you some clothing, although she's a bit shorter than you, and you're a bit better endowed. But I think that it could work."

"Wonderful. Goodbye then," Sango said, choosing to ignore his comments about her body despite the temptation to slap him silly.

He chuckled. "I'll send her up when I find her then."

A moment later, the door opened and closed, and Sango was left mercifully alone.


End file.
